Two Letters
by Piodasses
Summary: A short piece exploring the eventual confrontation had Ginny actually dosed Harry with a love potion to induce the 'monster in the chest'. DH Epilogue compliant. HarryGinny


I'm not usually into writing such stories, but I read a story where an author's note was a complete lashing out at the 'monster in the chest' that Harry referred to and at Ginny. I mean, interpreting it as a love potion is one thing but to completely shoot down a character with firm but unproven conviction is another. Feeling a strong sudden attraction to someone whom you have known for a few years isn't an entirely implausible situation... just because Harry suddenly noticed Ginny doesn't automatically imply love potions, though it could be a decent interpretation.

This is my response to a reaction where Ginny did indeed dose Harry with love potions. I can see a lot of active anti-HG readers not liking this short scribble, but it was more out of the need to get this particular monster out of my chest than anything else. Reviews are appreciated, but please, let's keep it polite and professional.

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**Two Letters**

Dear Harry

I have a confession to make. Before I begin, I want to reiterate two things. First, as I am writing this, there is nothing which I am more certain of than my love for you. Second, when it comes to you, I was always nothing more than a stupid little girl.

Before I met you, I had a crush on you. After you saved my life from Riddle, that crush became an obsession. After we got together, the obsession faded, the crush disappeared, and I began to appreciate you. From the day you left me following Dumbledore's funeral, I was heart broken, and I realized what love truly was.

All this is true for my part. But the one thing which I wasn't sure of was how you felt. Here is my confession. It was a love potion that made you kiss me in the Gryffindor Common Room. You didn't choose to do so. I give you my word that I only dosed you once, just once, and it should have faded after a month, which it did. And you broke up with me. But you were too noble to stay away at seeing my distress, and you felt you had to come back to me. I have no justification for that except that I was a naïve star-struck fifteen year old, terribly spoilt by my family.

Even as I walked to you at the altar, I thought of telling you the truth. But I was scared. I was scared, not of you leaving me, which you had every right to (and still have), but I was scared of hurting you. This was one scar I could not inflict upon you. So I pretended… even as my heart wrenched in pain at the thought of continually deceiving you. Even as I heard you say, "I do," my heart felt it wasn't completely out of love. It was just a mixture of my stupidity, your nobility and my cowardice, in that order, that led to our marriage. Since then I woke up daily pretending that we are one happy couple, and for the most part it worked. You are that perfect, my sweet Harry. Every night, I sleep perfectly content with what we have. But while I sleep, I am no longer haunted by visions of Riddle possessing me. Instead I see myself holding a beautiful baby, with stunning green eyes and adorable messy black hair, and marking a scar… not on his forehead, but on his heart. I am so sorry. That is what I have done.

I know you love me now, and I know you are aware of my love for you. But I cannot keep this initial deception from you any longer. I have tried to tell you so many times. I nearly did the day you proposed me. But I looked into your eyes, haunted by the deaths of so many people whom you loved… that this revelation could completely shatter you. That's why I asked to wait for a year. I lied when I said I wanted to wait and see if I still felt anything for you. How could I not? I knew if I didn't marry you, I would remain single for the rest of my life. But how could I condemn you to such a life? I know it hurt you a bit, but I had to do it. Better a slight hurt then that would take you from me to true happiness, than for me to be unable to hold back and ensnare you to a life of fabrications. I tried. I tried again on Valentine's Day, one week before our wedding. I started telling you, but you chose that moment to sing a variation of the ridiculous poem I wrote to you in my first year. How could I break your heart after that? Then we were married. Every night during our honeymoon, we slept with perfect contentment and I would wake up with the desire to tell you the truth. Then you would do some of the most sweetest things imaginable that I would falter in my resolve yet again.

I tried, Harry, I tried so hard. But I was a coward. Then we had James Jr. and I decided to carry this secret with me to my grave. I couldn't do it, not anymore, not to you. You, who deserve more happiness than anyone else. For my consolation, I managed to convince myself that the love I began to see in your eyes was true, not a lie. But it was built on the foundations of one. For that I am so sorry, my sweet and pure Harry. By the time you have read this, I must have hurt you so much, so much more than Voldemort.

I decided to keep this secret until my death but that would be yet another deceit. With my death I could only receive forgiveness from you, but I cannot deny you the right to be angry, the right to hate me. So, now that Lily has left home, I am giving you that chance. When you read this letter, I will be gone. I will not show my face to you until you are ready, and when you summon me through Hedwig, I will come to you and accept whatever you decide. I am so sorry.

Forever yours, with love and regret,

Ginny

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Dear Ginny

When I read your letter, the first thing I felt was an intense hollowness, a despair unlike any I have ever felt before. Not even dying and coming back to life could compare to this. How could I fail you so terribly? In my defense, I thought I was trying to protect you.

I knew about the love potion, you silly girl. After Romilda Vane's attempts, I had become fairly expert in recognizing the effects and kept an antidote in my pocket all the time. The day you dosed me, I did feel it. After the Quidditch Match, I kissed you. I knew it was a love potion and I knew I had the antidote. I managed to thwart so many attempts by so many other girl trying to get hold of the boy-who-lived, but I couldn't stop myself from kissing you. All the time, I had the antidote with me.

That night, I took the antidote and thought about what had happened. With you, I apologize if this makes you angry, I have a natural tendency to be protective… despite having a first hand experience of the power of your bat bogeys and other hexes. Do not think it to be because of the incident with Riddle. No, that was also an effect of this protectiveness. I think it started when I first saw you in Platform Nine and Three Quarters and then in the Burrow. Everybody wanted something from the boy-who-lived, but you, my dearest Ginny, you just want to spend time with me, to make me your friend. And you failed so miserably. I was an insensitive and emotionally detached boy, and I apologize for not easing you out of your crush earlier. But I was so scared to get to know you better and dispel any little bit of attraction you might feel for me. At the same time, it made me protective of you. I couldn't get myself to talk to Ginny Weasley, but I couldn't let anyone hurt her either. When I saw you in the Chamber, I was so scared. I would have freely given my soul to Riddle if he would have returned yours. But luckily, we survived that. I kept my distance. I was scared. I was emotionally stunted. I couldn't lose that little thread of certainty that was Ginny Weasley. Hence, the Cho Changs and Parvati Patils.

Then came the day when I felt a monster in my chest roaring for you. I had the antidote and I nearly took it, but I held back. You might say I didn't choose to kiss you, but I will argue that I chose not to stop myself from kissing you. Then I had the most wondrous six weeks of my life. It was a dream. And not a love potion induced dream, but a beautiful chapter out of someone else's life which I didn't feel I deserved at that time. Not with the prophecy. When I broke up with you, I was protecting you again. When I was hunting for Riddle's soul pieces, I would trace your movement on the Marauder's Map. I was confused when I saw you spend long hours in Myrtle's broken toilet, and later I found out you would go there to cry. Not down to the chamber, but as close to it as you could. Your most terrible ordeals, and you would go there just to feel a closeness to me. I knew then that you cared for me, and I resolved to find a way to make it up to you. I resolved to make up for every single tear you shed.

When I proposed to you, it wasn't me being noble. It was what I wanted, my sole desire was to make you happy, and I thought that is what you wanted. When you asked me to wait, I feared you might have found someone else. But you hadn't. In my absence, Hermione noted that you kept fingering the bracelet I gave you for Christmas and appeared lost to everyone around you. She told me that you might be giving me a chance to explore my newfound glory as the man-who-conquered. I didn't want any of that. I only wanted my beautiful Ginny. I decided to win you back. I did everything I could to win you, right up till our wedding, I wrote a poem, I made cakes, I learnt how to dance, I learnt how to play a guitar… Then we married, the happiest day of my life after those when James Jr., Albus and Lily were born.

During our honeymoon, I would see you wake up with a glazed expression and I didn't know what might be the cause of it. For all I knew it could be Fred and Arthur's loss, Riddle's nightmare, the after effects of the war, or even second thoughts about us. I didn't know, but I was desperate. I couldn't lose you. I tried to ask you, but something about your countenance kept me back. So I did the next best thing, and devoted my life to make you happy, my angel. I tried to protect you yet again.

It pains me to know that you have carried such a deep wound in your heart all along. When I think of all the happiness I have had and the happiness I have seen in your face, how much more could we have had were this cleared up? The thought leaves me staggering. I never needed a love potion to love you, Ginny, and I never held it against you. I know you love me and I know you were aware of my love for you. That was enough.

Stop being a stupid little girl and come back home. I am lonely.

Forever yours in every way,

Harry


End file.
